22

Mom and Dad greeted them on their return from a glorious week in Hawaii. While Dad took Mitch into the living room, Mom took Carolyn into the kitchen. She looked worried. “What’s wrong, Mom? Where’s Dawn?”

“In her room. We explained everything to her, but she doesn’t fully understand.” She offered Carolyn a cup of tea or coffee. “This is the only real home she’s ever known.”

What about the house on Vineyard Avenue? Carolyn wanted to say. Didn’t that count? “She doesn’t want to go with me. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“She’s only seven, Carolyn.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“I know that. It’s just going to be very hard for her to adjust to all these changes.”

Mom’s red-rimmed eyes told Carolyn her daughter wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

“I’m sorry about that, but I think the sooner we go, the better.”

“You won’t even stay for dinner?”

“Is she packed?”

May Flower Dawn clung to her grandfather. Pried loose and strapped into the backseat, she cried for an hour. Carolyn and Mitch tried to reassure her. It didn’t help. When she finally fell asleep in the backseat, Mitch took Carolyn’s hand. “Give her time.”

Mitch carried their things into the house. Carolyn unpacked Dawn’s clothes, hanging her dresses in the closet and putting the rest into the dresser. She left the Barbies and doll clothes in the box for Dawn to unpack the next morning. When she told Dawn to get ready for bed, she did. As she tucked her in, Dawn started to cry again. “I want to go home!”

“This is your home.”

“I want Granny!”

Pierced through the heart, Carolyn bent down and kissed her daughter’s head. “Sorry, May Flower Dawn. You’re stuck with your mother.”